Mr Monk and the Man in the Suit
by randomitegirl
Summary: Mr. Monk is alarmed when he notices a man following him. It gets worse when he discovers that this man may be involved in a violent robbery. But when Monk's life is threatened by an unknown foe, the man offers to help him. Should he trust this man? Is he really as bad as he seems? And who wants Monk dead? Monk: pre-season eight. Person of Interest: pre-Shaw
1. Chapter 1

Head notes: so I've wanted someone to do something like this for a long time because I am a fan of both shows. I have never written a story for Monk so I may not have the characters down very well. For Monk the time line is some time before season eight. For Person of Interest it takes place Pre-Shaw.

Chapter one

Captain Leland Stottlemeyer surveyed the scene of what seemed to be a robbery. A bad one. 15 witnesses and most of them weren't even conscious yet, and all of them with a bullet to the kneecaps. The thought of a bullet going into his knees made him shudder. It would have been more merciful to kill them. There were ten other officers at the scene along with Randy, who walked over to him.

"The manager just woke up. He thinks he can describe the shooter," Randy said.

"we'll talk to him once Monk gets here," Captain Stottlemeyer said.

"Where is Monk?" Randy asked.

Just then a car door slammed and Leland could hear two people bickering.

"Speak of the devil," he said as he turned to see Monk and Natalie walking up.

"Sorry I'm late. Natalie was being unreasonable," He said to Leland and Randy.

"I was being unreasonable!" Natalie snapped, "who was the one who refused to leave until every speck of dust was out of my car?"

"Natalie, how many times do I have to tell you? Dust is the number one cause of lung cancer in America."

"That's ridiculous!"Natalie retorted. "I have more dust than that in my house. I don't have lung cancer."

"There are always exceptions to the rules Natalie."

"Meanwhile," Stottlemeyer interrupted. "back in San Francisco, we have a case to solve."

"What is it, Captain?" Natalie asked.

"We think robbery," Stottlemeyer explained. "Dispatchers got a call an hour ago regarding shots fired and some reports of a robbery."

"Did anyone see the shooter?" Monk asked.

fifteen people saw the shooter and every single one of them have bullets to the kneecaps." The captain said.

"Oh gosh," Natalie whispered, shuddering as she looked at the people groaning on the ground as they clutched their knees.

"The owner just woke up. we were just getting ready to talk to him when you arrived."

Monk nodded and went to follow. He stopped when he noticed the fallen displays.

"Mr. monk, no." Natalie said sternly.

Focusing on the captain, Monk stepped up behind him and listened as the owner, Mr. Richards, told his story.

"We were just closing down for the night," Mr. Richards hissed through his pain. "I had ten employees working and four customers. suddenly, a man came in and started shooting everyone. I always keep a gun behind the register for scenarios like this, so i went for it, but he saw me and shot my knee before i could do anything. then he went to the cash register, took all the money, and left."

"What did he look like?" Stottlemeyer asked.

"Hang on just a second," Monk said. "Do you have a back room?"

"Yeah," Mr. Richards said. "back hall on the right."

Monk walked past the aisles and turned in the direction indicated. A powerful scent of gunpowder overpowered him before he even entered the room. He raised his hands as his mind focused on the pieces of the whole. He spotted a smudge of blood near the legs of the table where someone had attempted to clean up. The brunt of the attack definitely happened back here. Noticing something on the table, he took out his tweezers and picked it up. it was a thin strong string fiber, like from a zipper. A bag? But a bag of what? Money?

"Mr, monk?" Natalie said coming up behind him.

"There was a bag here," he said.

"Are you sure?" Natalie asked.

"Unless someone tore their zipper while sitting very awkwardly on the table, " He responded sarcastically. "They were all back here doing something illegal. "

"Why illegal?"She asked.

"The attack happened back here, but someone went through a lot of trouble to make it look like it happened in the store." He answered. "Any way they were back here doing something illegal. probably some kind if underground gambling if he took money. One man became angry, took out his gun and shot...their kneecaps? Why the kneecaps?"

"Maybe it was a warning, you know to not tell anyone," Natalie speculated.

"Natalie," he said with exaggerated patience. "even if the police never got this call, they would still have to go to the hospital and hospitals have to report gunshot wounds. Fifteen people with gunshot wounds to the kneecaps would probably generate a lot if curiosity. It would have been less trouble to just kill them."

"Okay, well you'll figure it out," she said as they started walking back to the Captain. Natalie winced as they walked past a groaning man clutching his knee.

Suddenly Monk stopped in his tracks, a looking of dawning apprehension growing on his face.

"I know that look," Natalie said. "You figured it out didn't you?"

"The angle was wrong," Monk said.

"What do you mean?" Natalie asked.

"everyone else's wounds came from either straight on or just below. Mr. Richards' came from above. I think he shot himself."

"Shot himself in the kneecap?" Natalie repeated incredulously. "why would he do that? Why would anyone do that?"

"Maybe to make it look like a third-party was involved," Monk guessed. "But again, why didn't he just kill them?"

"We got a description of the shooter, Monk," the Captain said.

"The store owner is lying Captain," Monk interjected. "I don't think this was a robbery at all."

"Well, I got the same description from everybody. Tall, caucasian, dark hair and a really nice suit.

_Then why would the store owner shoot himself?_ Monk wondered to himself

XxXxXxXxX

John Reese stood across the street from the crime scene studying his quarry.

"Mr. Reese, did you have to shoot people in order to get in touch with our number?" Finch's voice sounded in his ear.

"You told me he was a detective, a brilliant one." John commented. "what better way to bring him to us than to present him with a challenge? Besides, I left all my hardware in New York. Commercial flights aren't fond of firearms."

He looked over at the bag of weapons he had taken from the criminals trading their black market weapons.

"What else can you tell me about our number, Finch?"

"Adrian Monk was a highly decorated detective for the San Francisco Police department until 10 years ago when he suffered a complete mental breakdown after his wife was killed. It was a car bomb. He was honorably discharged soon after he has spent every day since trying to solve his wife's murder and to be reinstated at the police station ."

"They ever find who did it?" john asked.

"Not presently." Harold answered. "Mr. Monk is highly unstable and he truly loved his wife. If he ever did find out who did it, there is no telling what he would do to the perpetrator."

"I would probably help him," John whispered ominously.

"Mr. Monk has no cell phone, no social networking and i can't access his bank account online. He does have an Email but he rarely uses that. the only people who contact him are his assistant Natalie Teeger and occasionally her daughter Julie."

"So we need to find a creative way to spy on him."

"Mr. Monk is highly brilliant. Anything we do we have to be absolutely careful that we don't leave any evidence of our being there."

"Finch, I was an international spy. I can-"

"Mr. Reese, what's wrong?"

John quickly turned the corner as Monk's eyes turned and looked directly at him.

"Mr. Reese, is everything okay?" Finch asked anxiously

"Finch, brilliant is an understatement. Monk just made me."

XxXxXxXX

Natalie stopped as Mr. monk looked across the street.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I thought I saw someone," he said.

"Okay, well it is a crime scene." she replied. "Maybe he's just curious."

XxxXxXxX

End notes: so one thing I wanted to do with this chapter was point out that John Reese is the only character ever who is allowed to shoot kneecaps. So what do you think? How is it so far story wise?


	2. Chapter 2

Head notes: So this took a while to write because the website kept deleting my work. Plus, it took a while to figure out how to write the first part. So without further ado, I present Chapter two. Enjoy!

Chapter Two

John had spent the whole night staking-out Monk's apartment. Natalie had stayed until ten and was back before eight the next morning. From what he had observed Monk and Natalie were almost always together. knowing that, he took the opportunity to blue-jack her phone. at least they would have ears on him as long as Natalie was with him. When they were separate... well he would figure that out later.

He heard a beep and tapped his earpiece.

"Miss me already, Finch?" He whispered.

""Have you been able to ascertain a way to spy on Mr. Monk?" Finch asked

"I'm offended you have to ask," John responded."His assistant Natalie is always with him, so I took the liberty of jacking her phone. As long as they're together, we'll have ears on-"

"HELP! HELP!" a male voice yelled over the microphone. A male, terrified voice screaming for help. Something was wrong.

John kicked the car door open and ran inside Monk's building.

"Mr. Reese, what's going on?"

"NATALIE, HELP! ITS GOING TO KILL ME!" Monk screamed.

"Monk's in trouble, Finch," He explained as he rounded the corner to Monk's room.

"Mr. Monk, it's okay, the spider's dead," Natalie suddenly said._Wait, Spider?_

John stopped seconds before kicking his way into Monk's apartment.

"It's not dead," Monk insisted. "Spiders never die. They're like zombies. They keep coming back."

John realized that Finch was still demanding to know what was going on.

"False alarm, Finch," he reported, walking away from the apartment. "Turns out., the only thing threatening him in right now is a spider."

"We may have several false alarms like this," Finch said. "the articles about him mention that he has a host of compulsions and phobias. This is the main reason the San Francisco Police Department is reluctant to reinstate him."

"So which one is trying to kill him today?" John asked jokingly.

"The Machine doesn't detect threats from arachnids, Mr. Reese," Finch reminded him.

"We're going to need eyes in his apartment," John said. "If Monk has another panic attack, we can't risk blowing our cover over another spider."

"That's a good point, Mr. Reese," Finch agreed. "I can plant a small camera in his apartment when he leaves."

"Remember Finch, Monk made me in less than five minutes," John reminded him. "we need to be careful."

"I'm quite aware of that, Mr. Reese," Finch said.

XxXxXxXxXx

Natalie made sure to pick up all pieces of the spider with a tissue, put it in a zip-loc bag, put that in another zip-loc bag, and threw that in the garbage dumpster outside. Oh, the things she did for Mr. Monk. If she did not get the whole spider outside and in the trash he would never come back.

They were leaving in a few minutes to talk to Mr. Richards in the hospital. The last thing she wanted was Mr. Monk focusing on the dead spider coming back to life instead of his questions. He might anyway, but at least if the spider was outside she could argue that the spider could never find its way back into his apartment.

"Are you ready to go?" She asked.

"I'm never ready," he answered. But he put on his brown suit and followed her out to her car.

The drive to the hospital was uneventful and they quickly got Mr. Richards' room number.

"Oh good," Mr. Richards said good-naturedly. "I have visitors to take my mind off my predicament."

"How's the knee?" Natalie asked.

"Killing me, thank you for asking," He replied. "May I ask why you are here?"

"Mr. Richards, we have some questions about last night," Monk said.

"Last night? Well, it's not much of a mystery, is it?" He asked. "A mad man broke in to my store and shot up the place. "

"Yeah, Here's the thing, it didn't happen in the store and it wasn't a robbery. It happened in the back room but you wanted it to look like it happened in the store." Monk spoke carefully

The smile on Mr. Richards face slowly disappeared as Mr. Monk's words sunk in.

"What's your question," He asked accusingly.

"What were you doing if you were trying so hard to make it look like a robbery?" Monk asked.

"It was a robbery," Mr. Richards insisted. "Do I need to remind you, I was shot. Are you even trying to find that guy?"

"That was you," Monk said.

"Oh so, I'm the crazed mad man that shot up my own store and then shot myself." Richards said incredulously. "I'm sorry, but have you ever been shot in the knee?"

"No, That's an activity I try to avoid," Monk said, missing the sarcasm in Mr. Richards' voice.

"Well, let me assure you, it's quite painful. A man would have to be crazy to shoot himself, let alone in the knee."

"Or hiding something," Monk put in.

"You know what, I don't have to talk to you," Mr. Richards said. "Get out, both of you."

Monk turned to leave, but stopped just before leaving the room.

"You were doing something illegal, Mr. Richards," He said before stepping outside. "We both know that.."

Natalie followed him out into the hall.

"He's the guy, isn't he," she said.

"Don't be absurd, of course he's not the guy," He said. "But he's involved."

"So you believe him, that it was a third-party," Natalie said. "But then why would he shoot himself?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out," .

They stepped outside the hospital when Mr. Monk suddenly stopped.

"Don't look now but a man has been following us," he said.

Natalie turned around to see what Mr. Monk was talking about.

"I said DON'T look, " he chastised.

Natalie ignored him and looked anyway and noticed a man sitting in a chair. He had dark hair and wore a suit despite the 80-degree weather. To all appearances he was just a casual observer of all the people in the lobby. But on closer observation she noticed that she and Mr. Monk were always in his line of sight.

"He's cute," she commented. Mr. Monk looked at her incredulously. "What? He is.

"Natalie he has a gun," he stated. Natalie looked back at the man in surprise. "I remember seeing him outside my apartment this morning. He had a bulge in his pocket about the size and shape of a handgun. Plus, he is the same height as the man I saw last night."

"Why do you think he's following us?" Natalie asked. "Is he going to try to kill us?"

"I don't know but do you remember the description of the shooter?" Monk asked.

"Tall, dark hair-"

"And a nice suit," Monk interrupted.

"So that means..." Natalie trailed off.

"He's the guy."

XxXxXxXx

A man stood across from the lobby watching Monk. He had on jeans and a dark leather jacket. He wasn't an innocent man anymore. He didn't even have a name. He knew he had to move soon or the contract would be closed and he wouldn't be paid. But he couldn't get any closer to Monk without drawing attention from his new bodyguard. Normally he was up to a challenge, but something told him this man was more than he seemed and that was saying a lot. His phone rang and he put it up to his ear.

"Yeah," he answered, his voice hoarse.

"Is it done yet?" An angry voice demanded.

"The target picked up a tail," he said. "I don't dare do anything to capture his attention."

"Aww, the little hit man is afraid of competition," the man said mockingly.

"Are you accusing me of being a coward?" the hitman demanded dangerously.

"I am paying you to kill Monk," the man repeated. "If you can't handle that, maybe I should hire someone else."

"Rest assured, Monk will be dead by the end of the week. I just have to be more creative," his eyes turned to the blond woman next to Monk.

"I don't care how you do it," the man snapped. "Just get it done."

The hit man stared at the woman. There had to be a way to get to her. And if he could get to her then, by extension, he could get to Monk.

XxXxXxXx

Harold moved around in Mr. Monk's apartment looking for anything that would give any hint as to why Mr. Monk was in danger. The fact that he kept all of his receipts helped to determine his finances. Although his monthly budget was stretching, but he wasn't in debt to anyone dangerous. Nor was he involved in any criminal activity. That was a good thing

He couldn't help but notice how many pictures of Trudy there were. She truly was a beautiful woman, much like Grace. To have lost her in such a way, no wonder Mr. Monk had suffered a meltdown. Harold forced the thought out of his head the moment it surfaced. His fate wasn't quite as unfortunate as Mr. Monk's. All things considered, Harold was the lucky one. At least he could see her every once in a while. Monk never would.

He tapped his earpiece as Mr. Reese called him.

"Well, there's no point in trying to hide from him anymore," John said, disappointment and amazement mingling in his voice. "He already pointed me out to Natalie. And he's practically figured out what happened last night."

"Didn't I warn you that it would be unwise to leave behind such an obvious crime scene?" Harold reminded him.

"How is it going on your end of things?" John asked, changing the subject.

"I've been looking through his receipts to determine his finances. Every month he buys 10 boxes of tissues, 1000 anti-bacterial wipes, and 10 bottles of cleaning supplies."

"I guess you can be too clean," Mr. Reese commented.

"I was able to build a camera small enough to be hidden in almost anything," Finch said. "I'll be out of here as soon as I can find a place to plant it."

"Keep in touch, Harold."

Harold turned away from the pictures and took out the small camera. he took a clock from off the wall and took it apart. he placed the camera inside the face and put it back together. He checked his phone to make sure the camera was syncing with his phone and the room appeared along with him standing over it.. He carefully put the clock back on the wall making sure it was perfectly straight.

With a camera hidden in the clock they would now have a perfect view of anything that happened in the living room, dining room, and kitchen. That done he had accomplished what he had set out to do. He picked everything he had brought with him and headed for the door, making sure to lock it before closing it.

He turned to leave but froze in his tracks as he came face-to-face with a startled Captain Stottlemeyer. The surprise only lasted a moment before the look on the captain's face gave way to a truly terrifying look.

"And just who might you be?"

XxXxXxXx

End notes: So I'm pretty sure the bad guy is obvious. Hopefully not too obvious. but I'm sure someone might be able to guess. Also not sure if the 'hiding a camera in a clock' would actually work, I'm just using my imagination and pretending it could work. I wanted Finch to be able to do something awesome and smart.


	3. Chapter 3

It's back! Sorry it took so long. Enjoy!

chapter Three

Harold stared at Captain Stottlemeyer barely aware of the weight of the equipment he had strapped on his shoulders. Neither one of them had moved an inch for what seemed to be an hour, though it had probably only been a few minutes.

"I asked you a question," Captain Stottlemeyer growled, growing impatient. "Who are you?"

"My apologies," Harold finally answered, floundering for an explanation. "I just moved in to this apartment building a little more than a week ago and I still have trouble remembering where mine is. Is this one yours?"

"So you decided to go in and take a little stroll?" Stottlemeyer said, ignoring his question. "I happen to know that that door is always locked. So how did you get in and what were you doing?"

Harold didn't answer.

Stottlemeyer was quickly losing patience at Harold's refusal to answer his question.

"Look buddy, we can talk here or we can take a drive down to the station," he threatened.

Harold didn't dare speak. Any answer he gave would only lead to more questions, possibly to some questions he couldn't answer without telling him about the Machine.

"Suit yourself," Stottlemeyer said, grabbing his wrists and forcing his arms behind his back. "you are under arrest for breaking and entering."

Harold gasped at the forced movement as his arms stretched farther than they had in years. The damaged muscles in his neck and shoulders protested the sudden movement. He knew that Captain Stottlemeyer had no way of knowing about his injuries but that didn't make it any less painful.

He blinked the pain away, as Captain Stottlemeyer grabbed his arm and began escorting him down the hall and outside.

Finch knew that he could easily get out on bail if it came to that, but he had a feeling that Captain Stottlemeyer wouldn't let him leave San Francisco until he had answered his questions. He was confident that Mr. Reese could handle protecting Mr. Monk on his own, but what about the next number?

He sat silently in the backseat as Captain Stottlemeyer drove at a reckless speed toward the police station.

XxXxXxXx

Monk looked back at the man in the suit as he and Natalie sat down in her car. The man seemed to notice that Monk was watching but didn't seem to mind. He simply nodded and even smiled a little. He could tell that the man was highly efficient and there was a dark history in his eyes. The fact that he was following him now and the fact the he had shot fourteen kneecaps was very concerning. As was the fact that the man didn't mind him knowing. That meant that whatever he was going to do he could not be stopped easily.

Monk rocked forward slightly as Natalie put the car into drive. He noticed as the Man in the Suit got into a car and began following them.

"But why would Richards shoot himself if this man had shot everyone else?" he wondered, unaware that he was speaking out loud.

"maybe he didn't," Natalie suggested. "Maybe the man in the suit staged the whole thing so that it would look like Richards did it."

Monk thought about it. It could be possible, but there were still a few things that didn't add up. They still didn't know what was going on when the man in the suit open-fired. And the bullet angle. If the man in the suit was trying to frame Richards for shooting himself, why wouldn't he do something more obvious? Why go with such a small detail that few people would notice.

"No, whatever is going on, Mr. Richards is involved. You saw him in the hospital room. He got angry the second we started asking questions about last night. He's hiding something. We just have to figure out what."

Natalie's phone began to ring and she carefully answered it.

"Hello, sweetie, what's going on?" She said.

"Mom, my friends are planning this swimming party for tonight and I need ten dollars."

Okay, Who's going and who's driving?" Natalie asked.

"Jana and Emily are driving. Eight other people are going. We are going to carpool over to the water park by the rec center and we will be back at ten." Julie reported.

"Okay you can go as long as you stay with your friends," Natalie consented. "And as far as money goes, we will just have to see how well you do your chores."

She heard Julie sigh at the other end. "Fine," she sighed.

Natalie was sighing too. Julie couldn't be old enough to go to a party. She knew that Julie was sixteen but to her she would always be her little girl. Natalie pulled up to Mr. Monk's building and turned off the car. They walked inside Monk's apartment and Natalie began making lunch. Monk looked around. There was something off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about his apartment that he didn't recognize.

"You okay, Mr. Monk?" Natalie asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Monk looked at her confusedly.

"How could I have seen a ghost, when ghosts aren't even real?"

"It's just a figure of speech, Mr. Monk," Natalie sighed annoyed. "I don't mean that you literally saw a ghost. I just mean that you seem more confused than you normally are."

"What do ghosts have to do with being confused?"

"Forget it, Mr. Monk," Natalie said. "Just, what were you thinking about?"

"The room just looks so different," he whispered, more to himself than to Natalie.

She studied the room. Nothing looked different. The pictures of Trudy were prominately displayed in their place of honor, the little coffee table tilted at the precise angle it was supposed to be. Nothing looked out of place to her. But then again, she wasn't Mr. Monk.

"Different how?" She asked carefully.

Monk was just about to give up when he spotted it: the clock was one millimeter off center.

He went and took down the clock, but there was nothing behind it. Then, he looked at the back of the clock itself. There was a small, thin wire fed through the back and to the face of the clock. He pulled it out and noticed that it was a small camera. He didn't even know it was possible for a camera to be that small. But someone was watching them through that camera, and he had a pretty good idea who.

XxXxXxXxXxX

John listened as Monk and Natalie theorized about the crime scene last night. Monk had a sharp mind from what he had heard both from questioning the store owner, Richards, and what he said on their drive home. Natalie wasn't half-bad either. She was the kind of person who could think outside the box.

Finch had sent him the video feed from the camera twenty minutes ago so he was able to watch as they walked inside the apartment. He watched as Natalie started making lunch and Monk looked around.

Just as he suspected, Monk had noticed something off. He watched as Monk walked toward the clock and eventually found the camera.

He tapped his earpiece

"Well, Finch, I'm not the only one Monk was able to spot easily," John teased . "He just found the camera."

He expected to hear Harold's chiding remark about Monk being a brilliant detective but he didn't hear anything of the kind. In fact, he heard nothing on the other end of the line.

"Finch," he called, worry starting to seep into his mind.

He tapped the earpiece again but still nothing.

Something was wrong with his partner. He was tempted to abandon Monk to search for Harold, but he knew Finch would look down on it. For Harold, No one was worth sacrificing in order to save him.

Biting his tongue, he turned back to the video feed with a painful resolve that he would do whatever it took to save Monk.

XxXxXxXxX

Randy sat at his desk trying to work. The Captain's "discussion" had turned into a one-sided argument a while ago. The whole building could probably hear everything he was saying loud and clear. He would hate to be in the suspect's shoes facing the Captain's anger. He'd rather go skydiving without a parachute above a lake of molten lava than make the captain this angry.

Suddenly the door slammed shut and Randy noticed that the captain had come out. He watched as the Captain threw himself on to his chair still seething from his interview.

"So how'd that go?" Randy asked after a moment of intense silence.

"I can't get that man to answer a simple question," he admitted. "He just sits there, staring at me quietly without so much as even blinking. To be honest, it's downright creepy."

"Can I try talking to him?" Randy asked.

The captain looked at him doubtfully. Finally he said, "You can try. I doubt you'll get any further than I did."

Randy stood up and walked to the water fountain, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with water. Then, he walked into the interrogation room and placed the cup in front of the small man in glasses.

"Figured you could use some water," he said, as the man looked up at him. He had an expensive vest under an even more expensive suit and he gave the impression that he was used to being in control whatever the circumstances.

"What's your name?" Randy asked.

The man didn't move, not even to pick up the plastic cup. He simply watched Randy as he sat down across from him. The silence was becoming uncomfortable as they exchanged looks. The captain was right, it was creepy.

"So, you broke into an apartment, huh?" Randy said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Too bad it happened to belong to a friend of ours."

The man didn't blink. He didn't even try to come up with a bogus explanation. He just kept staring at Randy waiting for him to continue.

"So what were you doing in Monk's apartment?" Randy asked.

"that is not important, Lieutenant Disher, as I told Captain Stottlemeyer, all you need to know is that I am here to help someone out of a difficult situation."

It took a moment for Randy to realize that the man had spoken. He had been starting to think that the man couldn't speak at all. After taking a moment to gain his composure, Randy decided to press for answers.

"so you can speak," he said. "Then maybe you can expand on that a little. Help who, with what?"

The man didn't answer.

"let's start with something easier," Randy said standing up. "How do you know my name? Or even the captain's for that matter?"

the man still didn't answer.

"In my experience, people aren't interested in cops unless they have something to hide," Randy said, trying to get a reaction. The man just continued staring at him, refusing to even blink.

XxXxXxXx

Captain Stottlemeyer was still seething when Monk and Natalie walked into the station.

"No, No," He growled. "Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it."

He knew Monk would take his anger personally, but he didn't care right now.

"Captain, we are being followed, " Natalie said, pulling Monk back into the room.

Stottlemeyer stopped just as he was about to retort.

"You're being followed, " he repeated. "By who?"

"We don't know," Natalie said. "We think it's the shooter from the robbery last night."

"It is the shooter from last night," Monk insisted. "He's been following us all day. Plus, we found this in my apartment."

Stottlemeyer took the small wire Monk offered. He looked up at Monk waiting for an explanation.

"It's a camera, the smallest camera I have ever seen. Someone hid it in my clock. I didn't even know it was possible-"

Monk stopped when he saw the look on Leland's face turn from anger to concern, and back to rage.

"Captain?" He called.

Leland rose to his feet with a dangerous look in his eye. If the man he had brought in had planted the camera, then he was a serious threat to Monk. And no matter how much Monk might tick him off from one day to another, he was still his friend. And nobody messed with Leland Stottlemeyer's friends.

XxXxXxX

End notes: so one thing I wanted to do with this chapter was explore Stottlemeyer's character. He's not a bad guy but he is very protective of his friends as are all the characters on both shows.


	4. Chapter 4

Head notes: sorry it's taken so long. I started it, then I had serious mental block for two weeks. I finally finished it last night. I am actually quite happy with how it turned out and I hope you all like it too. Enjoy!

Chapter 4

John hadn't really been surprised when Monk decided to go to the station to speak with Stottlemeyer. From what he'd seen Stottlemeyer was the only friend he had besides Natalie. He listened to the conversation but when Stottlemeyer went silent after hearing about the hidden camera, something clicked in John's brain. Stottlemeyer must have caught Finch in Monk's apartment. It was confirmed as He suddenly heard Stottlemeyer's breathing harden. A couple of moments later, He heard a crash and Stottlemeyer's voice, deep and growling, "who are you?"

Abandoning all reason, he charged into the police station looking for the captain.

XxXxXxXx

Harold Finch didn't know how long it had been since Captain Stottlemeyer brought him in. It could have been an hour. Lieutenant Disher was still asking questions and, despite the fact that Harold hadn't answered any of them, still carried on with odd suggestions and wild theories that were way beyond the mark.

"I'm going to ask you again sir," he said, growing angrier. "Who are you?"

Harold still looked him in the eye. Even at his angriest, Lieutenant Disher was less threatening than a five-year-old.

Both Harold and Lieutenant Disher jumped as the door suddenly burst open to reveal Captain Stottlemeyer. Harold's heart stopped as he saw the look in the captain's eyes as they locked onto his. He only had a second to prepare as rough hands suddenly grabbed the front of his vest and yanked him out of the chair, slamming him against the wall.

"Captain, what are you doing?!" Disher demanded. Alongside him a new voice said "Captain, don't!"

"My patience is wearing thin, so I'm going to ask you one more time, who are you? And what do you want with Monk?"

Stottlemeyer's arm was pushing against his chest, rendering Finch completely immobile.

XxXxXxXx

Feuled by adrenaline, John lost track of all five of his senses. He had to stop Stottlemeyer from making a huge mistake. He could barely hear what was going on through Natalie's phone. But he stopped when he heard Monk's voice say "Captain, stop!"

John allowed himself to slow down enough to hear the conversation unfold.

XxXxXxXxXx

Finch stared at the captain as his face quickly grew red and his breathing became quick and shallow, his teeth were clenched so hard they could have shattered. Harold felt his chest constrict a little as Stottlemeyer's arm gradually pressed harder against him.

"Captain, Stop," the voice said, a timid hand appeared on Stottlemeyer's shoulder. It was Mr. Monk.

"Monk, meet the man who's been watching you," Stottlemeyer said. "He hasn't told me who he is or what he wants, but he will."

Finch knew by the look in his eye that that last statement was directed at him.

"Captain, I can't let you do this," Monk said. "You'll lose your badge."

"There are worse things than losing a badge, Monk," Stottlemeyer said.

"Not to me," Monk said after a moment of silence.

Stottlemeyer stopped and slowly turned to look at Monk. Finch didn't have to research anything to guess what was going on between the exchanged looks.

"what do you suggest we do, Monk?" Captain Stottlemeyer asked.

"let me talk to him," Monk suggested after a moment. Stottlemeyer chuckled.

"I've tried that. Heck, I even let Randy try. He is not talking to anybody."

"But, Leland, if he is watching me then that means he's probably interested in me. And if that's the case, then maybe he will talk to me."

Stottlemeyer glanced from Finch to Monk and back.

"on one condition" Natalie said. "I'm staying in here with you, Mr. Monk"

Stottlemeyer looked over at Natalie as she spoke and opened his mouth to object but stopped himself.

"Fine," Stottlemeyer conceded. Turning back to Finch, he said, "if you take this as an opportunity to hurt my friends, there's no law in any country that will protect you from me, Understand?"

"Yes, I understand," Finch answered.

Stottlemeyer gave one more push against his chest before finally letting him go.

"Come on, Randy," he said.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Monk looked back at the man as Leland and Randy walked out of the room. He took a moment to catch his breath before sitting down and looking at Monk and Natalie.

"I imagine you have some questions for me, Mr. Monk. Although, I'm afraid I will not be able to answer many of them. You can call me Harold."

The man looked him right in the eye, with a calm and respectful gaze. His posture indicated that he'd been severely injured and the presence behind his eyes told him that he was incredibly smart. But it still felt like there was even more to him than what he could see. He looked at Natalie who was probably thinking along the same lines. Looking back at the man, he began.

"You built a camera small enough to fit in a clock," he said. "That was you, wasn't " Monk tried to hide the wonder in his voice.

Harold acknowledged Monk's observation with a slight nod.

"So you're obviously very smart. And you went through a lot of effort to hide it well. So you know a little bit about me."

Harold stared at him and after a moment nodded.

"Who are you?" Monk asked cautiously.

"I believe you've seen my associate," The man, Harold, said cryptically.

"You are referring to the Man in the Suit, is that correct?"

"Mr. Monk," he said calmly. "Do you know of anyone with reason to harm you?"

"Why do you ask?" Monk asked.

"I have information from a reliable source that tells me you are in grave danger," Harold said. This man was definitely hiding something if he always spoke this cryptically.

"Mr... I'm sorry. What was your name again?"

"You can call me Mr. Robin if you prefer to use honorifics."

You can call me. He didn't say 'my name is,' he said 'you can call me.' Monk was pretty sure he hadn't given his real name. It also told him that Harold was used to giving out fake names.

"Well, Mr. Robin what is this reliable source?" Monk asked.

"I'm afraid I can't answer that," Mr. Robin said. "But my associate and I are here to help you. I assure you of that."

"And how are we supposed to believe that?" Natalie asked beside him. "You planted a camera in Mr. Monk's apartment and your "associate" has been following us non-stop since we left this morning. You expect us to believe that all that is to protect us?"

"Ms. Teeger, I understand your suspicions regarding our methods, but I assure you, we are not here to hurt anyone."

"You seem reluctant to answer our questions," Monk said carefully.

"I'm a very private person, Mr. Monk " Mr. Robin said.

"Well if I'm going to believe you, I'm going to need answers." he said.

"I'm afraid I can't supply you with any," Mr. Robin said.

"Then I guess we're done with this interview."

"I suppose we are," Harold said."Please bear in mind everything I have told you."

XxXxXxXxXxX

"What do you think?" Natalie asked as she closed the door.

"About what?" Monk asked.

"You know what.. That guy Harold. He was so cryptic."

"He's hiding something." He said. "He doesn't seem like a killer but then why is he working with the Man in the Suit?"

"Well, you're not going home with a camera watching you," Natalie said.

"Natalie-" he objected. but Natalie interrupted.

"Listen! If Robin or, whatever his name is, is working with the Man in the Suit, than it's possible that the Man in the suit also has access to the camera feed, right?"

Monk gave a reluctant nod, knowing where this was going.

"So then, you will still be watched at home. And we have no idea how many cameras he installed or where. There could be some in your bathroom."

"In my bathroom?"he repeated horrified.

Natalie quickly changed gears.

"Okay okay, not your bathroom. In your bedroom maybe." but that was worse.

"What sick person would put a camera in my room?" Monk whimpered.

"Mr. Monk, I'm just saying that it might be smart to spend the next couple of nights at my house."

"I haven't packed," He said. "I don't have Trudy's pillow, or my travel toothbrush, or water."

"There's water at my house, Mr. Monk." She said. "and as for the other things, we can buy a travel toothbrush or whatever else you will need for the next few days at the store."

Mr. Monk looked at her. "Trudy's pillow?" he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Monk," she said softly.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Julie could never stand the smell of Clorox. She hated the way it felt in her nose and how she could somehow taste it on the air. But if it wasn't Clorox, it wasn't clean enough for Mr. Monk. And when her mom had called with news that Mr. Monk would be staying over for a few days, she knew that the cleaning would have to be deeper than normal. She once again soaked the washcloth with the water/Clorox mixture, wrung it out, and scrubbed the bathroom counter.

A knock at the door offered her temporary reprieve from the strong fumes. Putting the cloth in the bucket, she went to go answer the door.

She opened the door to see a tall dark-haired man in a dark leather jacket. She noticed a scar on his neck just above the collar of his shirt.

"Who are you?" she asked

"You are Julie Teeger, right?" he asked. His voice was hoarse.

Julie hesitated. Normally she wasn't the paranoid type, but the way he was asking creeped her out.

"I don't usually share that information with random people at the door," she said carefully.

"And your mother is Natalie, right?" he pressed.

"Maybe you should come back when she's home," Julie said, closing the door.

The man suddenly stuck his arm out and jammed his foot in the door. He pushed it open with ease despite her effort to push it closed.

"I'm not going anywhere," the man said softly. "After all I can always wait here until your mother gets home, right?"

Adrenaline raced through her blood as she managed to get the door halfway closed. But it wasn't enough. He started to slide himself through the crack between the door and the frame. Suddenly, he jerked the door open with a sudden burst of strength that Julie wasn't prepared for. The momentum of the door pushed her to the ground as the man stepped inside and closed the door behind him, locking it.

He looked down at her with an amused smirk that chilled her blood. He reached down and that gave her the motivation to fight.

She kicked out with her foot, hoping to trip him, but he caught her foot. Using her momentary distraction, he grabbed her arm and yanked her up. She struggled fiercely, trying to pull away. She even tried to jam her elbow into his chest. But none of it had any effect on him. He forcefully pulled her arms behind her back and quickly tied her wrists together with rope. Panicking at the sudden friction against her wrist, she screamed as loud as she could.

"Help! Please!" She shouted for anyone who could hear her.

The man suddenly threw her against the couch and pulled out a knife.

"Shut up," he said evenly. "I know exactly where to cut where it will hurt the most but do the least damage. You scream again, and I will start there. You continue to give me a hard time, and I will slowly kill you one cut at a time."

Julie's mouth trembled as she stared at the knife but she stopped yelling for help.

"That's better," he commented.

"What do you want with me?" she asked.

The man just smirked and scoffed. Julie did not like where this was going at all.

XxXxXxXxXxX

The sun was starting to set as Natalie pulled the car into her driveway.

"What?" Monk asked as Natalie looked at him.

"I said we could buy what you NEED Mr. Monk. For a week at the most."

"And I did," he said.

"Ten bottles of Clorox is not a necessity, Mr. Monk. And we have food you can eat at my house. Why did you insist on buying almost a hundred dollars worth of groceries."

"There wouldn't be enough, and besides your food has been, you know, touched. Besides you didn't let me buy most of it. Why are you so upset?"

"Ten bottles of Clorox. We have enough Clorox."

"Yeah, but yours is old. It might even be expired. With these at least we know they are at full potency."

Natalie didn't want to hear any more of it and got out of the car.

XxXxXxXx

The man in the leather jacket grinned. Just a few more minutes and Monk would be dead. Things were falling into place nicely. The girl still sat huddled on the couch her arms tied behind her back.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

He didn't answer. His eyes drifted a little ways and he noticed a dark figure. So the bodyguard still showed up, huh? Well, if he could catch Monk off guard, the man wouldn't have a chance to save him.

"Please, don't kill them," the girl begged.

If he could wait for Monk and Natalie to walk into the house he could surprise them both, kill Monk, Kill the man in the suit, and leave to pick up his pay. Slowly, he took out his gun, crouched behind the couch and waited.

XxXxXxXxXx

John watched as Natalie unpacked the car. Having Monk stay with her was a smart move. Though it would do little to hinder him, it would slow down whoever was trying to kill Monk. The only thing he would do differently was have him stay in a hotel. But judging from the fuss he made about staying at Natalie's house, it was probably a good thing she didn't send him to a hotel.

He looked at Natalie's house. The lights were off. Harold said that Natalie had a daughter. And yes, she was going to a party tonight, but, checking his watch he realized it was still 7:15. Julie had said it was at eight. And though it was a possibility she might have left early, he wasn't going to risk anything.

Crossing the street, he saw a dark shadow move inside and quickly pulled out his weapon as a gunshot rang out.

XxXxXxXx

Natalie screamed and dropped onto the ground covering her ears. Monk jerked around looking for the source of the gunshot.

He heard a voice say," Get down!" as he felt strong hands grab him and push him onto the ground getting gravel all over his shirt. He looked up to see the Man in the Suit firing over the car.

"What are doing?" Natalie demanded.

"Right now, I'm shooting back at someone." he said calmly as he crouched behind the car.

He stood back up and fired two rounds toward the gunshots. Natalie peeked under the car to see what was happening.

A man stood in her doorway firing at them. He was quickly losing the advantage and retreated into the house a little.

"Don't shoot!" he ordered as he appeared in the door. Natalie's heart stopped as the man pulled Julie out of the house her arms tied behind her back, fear written on every inch of her face.

"Don't Shoot, unless you want to kill her," he said, pushing Julie in front of him.

The Man in the Suit didn't shoot, but he didn't lower the gun either.

"What do you want?" He said, his voice surprisingly calm.

"Give me Monk," The man ordered.

"I can't do that," the Man in the Suit calmly responded. "Let the girl go."

"Not until I have Monk. And if that's not a good enough trade, I guess I'll just take her with me."

Natalie couldn't take it anymore. Taking a chance, she stood up and bolted to get to Julie.

"Stop," the Man in the Suit said, catching her arm.

"Let me go! that's my daughter!"She ordered.

The Man in the Suit let off a shot that made the other guy duck. Missed, but only barely.

Finding himself at a disadvantage, the man in the dark leather jacket started to back up and walked to the edge of the street..

"No!" Natalie yelled, trying to break free from the Man in the Suit's grip.

"Natalie," he whispered, catching her off guard. "I can save her. But I need you to stay here with Monk."

She reluctantly nodded and the Man in the Suit let go of her arm.

XxXxXxXx

John stood up and came out from behind the car. Rage boiling in him, he tried to sneak closer to the man in the leather jacket, but he didn't dare try for another shot, fearing that it might hit Julie. He quietly began to follow him across the street.

The other man saw what he was doing and fired at him, causing John to momentarily duck behind a car on the street. The man dragged Julie behind him as he spied a car. He fired back at John, trapping him behind the car. After several rounds of continuous fire, John stood up and raced after him.

The man in the leather jacket had already shoved Julie in the backseat of a car and was already in the driver's seat. John raced toward the car as the man in the leather jacket began hotwiring it. The car was running before John could get to it and the man hit the gas.

John fired several rounds hoping to flatten the tire, but he couldn't get an accurate shot. A screech of rubber later and Julie was gone.

"What was that?" Natalie asked. "You said you could save her."

John turned around to face the anger, fear and, confusion on Monk and Natalie's face.

"I'm sorry."

XxXxXxXxXx

End notes: So how was it? And if any of you have any predictions or suggestions I am open to ideas.


End file.
